Soldiergirl
by SGCbearcub
Summary: Bill Scully never used to see the monsters


Title - "Soldiergirl"  
Author - Wintersong  
E-Mail address -wintersong .ca

Rating - R  
Category - SA  
Spoilers - none  
Keywords - none

PURity Category: Minor Characters

Summary - Bill Scully has an unusual Christmas  
gift for his sister.

Disclaimer: They belong to CC and 1013.

Note: This story was written for the PURity  
Summer Season Challenge.

It started with the silver bullets.

Six boxes of them. High test, high grade, silver  
coated 9mm ammo guaranteed not to flake, rust,  
melt or otherwise do anything that would cause  
them to jam when fired.

Do you have any idea how difficult it is to get  
silver bullets custom designed and delivered? The  
gunsmith thought I was crazy. Hell I thought I  
was crazy. I still bought them.

Half a dozen boxes, one hundred bullets to the  
box.

Hell of a thing to buy your sister for Christmas.

All because I walked into the wrong damn shower.

*****************************************

I had every right to be there. The officer's  
insignia on my shoulders said so. But I would  
have made an exception if I'd given anyone a  
chance to explain why I should hotfoot it several  
doors down. Unfortunately, I was tired, pissed  
off and horny ...not necessarily all in that  
order.

And none of those conditions has ever had a  
positive effect on my temper.

My boat was early, Tara was still visiting her  
mother and the showers on the boat had stopped  
working over a week ago. Which was why we were  
early. So I not only had to deal with the fact  
that I had a mountain of paperwork on my desk  
relating to said plumbing problem, but my wife  
had not been there to meet me like we'd planned  
and I smelled. I mean really smelled.

Another side effect from investigating said  
earlier stated plumbing problems.

So my men were staying upwind and I was too  
intent on taking a three hour shower to stop and  
talk to anyone who might have clued me in to the  
unofficial change in territory that had occurred  
while I had been gone. Instead, I just starting  
stripping off clothes before I was all the way  
through the door and had my head under blessed  
hot water before the silence registered.

You have to understand...there's a big difference  
between the silence of an empty room and the  
silence of one where the other people just aren't  
talking. I don't know how to explain it...but  
it's there. And the one thing that sailors  
usually are not, is silent.

Since it was possible that the smell pouring off  
my skin with the impact of the hot water had  
stunned them all into unconsciousness, I  
cautiously cracked open one eye. The other flew  
open in shock when I found myself the target of  
five amused gazes.

Don't get me wrong. I don't have any problem with  
SEALs. Any one of them could break me like a  
pencil. I know it. They know I know it. So there  
is no reason for them to bust my face over it.  
But I'm also male...and my testosterone was  
telling me that I was surrounded by predators.

I'm a sailor...not a soldier. And every  
gibbering instinct in my body knew it.

These men were not the enemy. But I was naked and  
outnumbered.

Fear is not rational.

Still, from the looks on their faces they were  
getting a kick out my predicament. One of them  
was eyeing the trail of clothes I had left on the  
floor with the expression of someone  
contemplating a burial at sea. One of the others  
just shook his head in sympathy and tossed me a  
bar of soap.

Smiles all around and that would have been the  
end of it if I hadn't noticed the scars.

Sailors get pretty used to tight quarters and  
lack of privacy. But there's looking at another  
man's body simply to recognize that it is there  
and then there is staring. I had definitely  
crossed the line into staring. It was only later  
that I realized that they must have seen  
something else in my face, because every single  
one of them stood there quietly as my horrified  
eyes moved from one ragged edge tear to another.

That was a knife wound. And that one there was a  
bullet. Blade, bullet, teeth. One testament to  
injury after another. But it wasn't the history  
of blood and pain written across their skins that  
scared me. Rocked me to the foundations of my  
world and beyond.

It was the fact that I recognized them.

Had seen similar scars in similar forms on two  
other bodies. One of them a body I would kill to  
keep safe. The other a body I had seriously  
contemplated putting a bullet into.

"What did that?"

I was pointing and I could hear my mother's voice  
yelling at me to mind my manners, but I was too  
far gone to stop now. If I could have reached out  
and touched that scar I would have. If only to  
convince myself that it was real. the SEAL  
reached to trace the scar lightly and his eyes  
were suddenly flat with a darkness I realized  
that I recognized. A grim contemplation that I  
had seen in blue eyes and hazel.

A darkness that I had scorned, not respected.

The SEAL's voice was wry, half-joking as he  
twisted his lips and uttered one word I knew he  
did not think I would believe.

"Werewolf."

But oh God. Mother Mary and all the Saints  
preserve us.

In that moment of time, I did.

I must have started to shake, because the room  
was suddenly spinning and I heard muttered curses  
as two dark forms leapt to catch me as I fell.  
From a distance, I heard my own voice, high and  
plaintive. A child stating a fact that he  
desperately hopes the adults around him will  
dispute.

"Dana has one just like it."

When I came too, there were medics surrounding me  
and the SEALs were gone. But they left me a gift.  
Or a curse. It all depends on your point of view.  
One of the SBAs gave me an uncertain glance and  
handed me an object and a note. The note was  
short and to the point.

For your sister

I looked at the knife in my other hand and  
twisted it cautiously to free the blade from it's  
sheathe. The deadly edge cleared the leather  
smoothly and the purity of it's metal and the  
beauty of it's lines did nothing to detract from  
it's lethal function or purpose. The light  
gleamed off it's surface and the SBAs were  
suddenly giving me concerned glances as tears  
rolled down my cheeks while laughter bubbled  
hysterically from my lips.

I turned the blade once more to catch the light.

Silver.

********************************************  
I started hearing stories in the silences of her  
conversation. Pauses, hesitations...secrets that  
I can only guess at humming down the wires of  
AT&T. But I did not know how to bring the  
subject up...and she did not volunteer.

So I bought silver bullets.

I had no clue how to tell Tara. How to explain  
that I was suddenly seeing shadows where none  
existed. Why I was suddenly keeping Matty closer  
to home and frantic when either of them were out  
of my sight. I don't know what I'm going to do  
when I'm assigned another tour on open water.  
I'm hoping I'll be sane by then.

But I meant to tell you about the bullets.

Did you know how cheap silver is? You can buy it  
easily by the ounce. I was walking down the  
street when I passed this jeweler's window that  
had several of the tiny squares resting on black  
velvet. Just part of the display, but before I  
could stop myself I was in the store and laying  
down my credit card.

I already explained that the gunsmith thought I  
was crazy.

It wasn't long before the quartermaster thought  
so too.

I started going through his shelves. Searching  
through his catalogues. I wasn't even sure what I  
was looking for. But all I could see was Dana  
facing things that scared full-grown SEALs and  
reaching for a weapon that wasn't there.

I thought the bullets would be enough. And the  
knife. But then I watched a Bela Lugosi movie and  
the next thing I knew I was siphoning holy water  
into a plastic bottle while the priest looked on  
baffled and alarmed. At least I had the presence  
of mind to use a church other than mine.

The fear never settled. It was this vast  
underswelling of panic that was taking over my  
life and threatening to drag me down. I kept  
thinking that I was going to be too late. There  
was nothing I could do to save my baby sister. I  
couldn't keep her safe. I couldn't keep Melissa  
safe.

How the hell was I going to keep Matty and Tara  
safe?

It was when I started guiltily praying that Dana  
and her partner could keep us safe that I knew my  
life had changed forever. That I had changed  
forever. And maybe these things were the closest  
I could come to an apology.

Because Dana wasn't talking to me anymore.

It was my own fault. I had made another sarcastic  
crack about Mulder. God knows why I did it. I  
knew better. But I won't lie and say I like him.  
I hate everything about the way I feel, about the  
fear that it taking over my life...and I lay it  
all at his feet. It's not fair. I know that.

Tough shit.

I can shoot the messenger if I want to.

Only now I've lost my last chance to tell Dana  
that I think I understand.

That's when Tara found me. I was standing in the  
garage staring helplessly at the pile of things I  
had purchased and every single one of them needed  
to go to Mom's. But the box I had wasn't big  
enough. You would think that it would be easy  
enough to just go out and buy another box, but  
all I could see was that I had made another  
mistake.

Tara found me crying over a god damn cardboard  
box in the basement. I don't know what the hell  
was going through her head when all I would say  
was,

"There's something missing. I don't know what it  
is, but something's missing."

It was then that I got proof positive how much my  
wife loves me. All she did was study the pair of  
bullet proof vests in my hands-the ones I had  
made after seeing that damn COPS episode,  
vests with pockets for extra clips and extra guns  
and extra things like holy water. I even had one  
made for Mulder. Because Dana had made her choice  
very clear and because if he ever got shot, no  
one would be there to watch her back.

That was suddenly far more important than how he  
made me feel.

Tara listened to my broken explanations. To this  
day I'm not sure how much sense they made. Then,  
instead of trying to talk me out of it or telling  
that I was crazy , she looked seriously into my  
eyes and suggested that we add a handful of tank  
tops.

" She isn't going to want to wear silk under that  
vest and I know I'd get tired of stripping down  
to my bra in front of all those cops and TV  
cameras. And they are easier to wash and don't  
cost as much if they get damaged. Do you think  
she would like some blue ones?"

Tara didn't even squeak when I grabbed her and  
held on tight.

God I love my wife.

*************************************

We all ended up at Mom's for Christmas. I think  
if Dana had known I was coming, she might have  
had something else to do that night. That hurt  
more than I will ever admit...more because I know  
it's my fault. But Tara must have said something  
to Mom and no one said anything to Dana.

I was more than willing to send my box and be  
done with it. Hide out in San Diego and wait to  
see if she understood what I couldn't tell her.  
But Tara had decided that I was going to do this  
in person and my mother agreed. I was outgunned  
and outmaneuvered so fast I'm thinking of  
recommending commissions for both of them.

Charlie and his family were there and suddenly I  
was seeing Dana's darkness in my own eyes. It  
stared out at me from the mirrors and reflected  
back at me from my mother's hesitant expressions  
and sober looks. I knew something they did  
not...and it pulled a wall around them I could  
not break.

Or perhaps the wall was around me.

I looked at the laughing faces of my brother and  
his wife and wanted to scream at them for the  
chances they did not even know they took. I  
looked at their children and saw vulnerabilities  
I could not begin to explain. Monsters under the  
bed that were real, deadly and just outside the  
doors.

It was at that moment I knew that if Dana told me  
to circle the wagons and put garlic above all the  
windows that I'd do it.

And I don't even believe in monsters.

But she does. He does. And the SEALs do. And I  
finally realized that the fear I've been fighting  
is not for what lives in the shadows, but for the  
peace of mind I'm going to be forced to leave  
behind. Because now that I've stopped closing my  
eyes, someday I'm going to find answers I'm not  
looking for.

Or perhaps, they will find me.

Then supper was over too soon and the doorbell  
was ringing. Mom ushered Dana into the hallway  
while Mulder trailed along behind, lugging bags  
of parcels. Instantly Mom invited him in for  
coffee and it was my bad luck that Dana caught  
sight of me  
at the same time Mulder started to protest that  
he was just there to help with the bags. It  
wasn't rational, but I suddenly knew, without a  
doubt, that if Mulder did not stay, that Dana  
would blame me forever.

And no amount of silver would ever make it  
better.

So I swallowed my pride and my instinctive anger  
and I added my own invitation. Well, it was more  
an order. Something about icy roads and waiting  
for the salt trucks. I may even have made some  
comment to the effect that only a moron would  
risk driving...

Okay, so it wasn't elegant. I was nervous. Tara  
groaned and both Mom and Dana glared but Mulder  
actually studied me curiously for a few minutes  
before toeing his boots off. He didn't even seem  
that insulted. Intrigued and wary, but not  
insulted.

Which was fine, because Dana was being insulted  
enough for the both of them.

I should tell you that when I'm scared I get  
obnoxious. I just can't help it. No matter what I  
mean to say, it comes out in this clipped  
sarcastic voice that seems especially designed to  
piss people off. Unfortunately, the alternative  
to speech is not talking at all. Which just makes  
me look sullen.

I figured sullen gave me the least number of  
chances to say something that would get me  
killed. So I pasted a polite smile on my face and  
tried not to glare at Mulder. I guess I wasn't  
being totally successful because Dana just got  
very quiet and very tense. Her knuckles on her  
coffee mug were so white I was worried she was  
about to fracture bone. Tara started talking  
faster and faster, while Mom just kept looking up  
and asking faintly if anyone wanted more cookies.

Finally, in desperation, Charlie suggested that  
we open presents. The screams of the children  
covered several explosive sighs of adult relief  
and no one seemed inclined to mention that it was  
several hours too early. Tradition was scrapped  
in favor of detente.

The rule was, that everyone got to open one  
present. Unfortunately, I'd forgotten about the  
huge box wrapped in silver paper with Dana's name  
on it. The kids wanted to know what was inside  
even if it wasn't for them. Charlie had second  
thoughts as soon as he saw who it was from, but  
by then it was too late.

This wasn't how it was supposed to happen. Not  
like this. Not when she was already angry with  
me. I know she didn't understand about the tank  
tops because she hadn't seen the vests yet.  
Still, her smile was fairly solid until she  
reached the next item in the box. I just wanted  
to know that she understood the message behind  
the bullets.

It never occurred to me that everyone would think  
it was a joke.

I think it was the vials of holy water that did  
me in.

She's on her feet and standing with her arms  
braced against the window while all I can do is  
stare blankly at her back. Mom has an appalled  
look on her face and Charlie's face is almost as  
blank as mine. Thank God the children were  
oblivious. They just thought the bullets were  
cool.

That's when I saw Mulder reach into the box and  
move the tank tops to reach something beneath.  
The sudden shift of his expression caught me off  
guard and I tried to recall what was in that  
particular container. I think it was the  
antibiotics. They were the same sort of pills and  
tablets the special forces used and I had had a  
hell of a time finding tablets for Mulder. He was  
allergic to the ones that came standard with the  
kit.

Son of a bitch probably did it just to be a pain  
in the ass.

Dana could get all the meds she wanted...but  
these were military grade and designed for travel  
in combat situations. I figured, what the hell.  
Besides, they came with the med kit. Mulder  
started to open his mouth ...and Dana turned  
around.

That's the first time I knew what it felt like to  
have your heart break.

For once, the walls were gone. Stripped bare,  
I'll never forget the despair, then pain...and  
yes, the anger that etched years onto her face.  
No one spoke. She would not, the others did not,  
and I could not.

Then I heard a single voice.

"Scully."

Three of us turned instinctively. Two navy, one  
FBI. He never noticed. In his eyes, there was  
only one person who belonged to that name. She  
turned...and caught the vest he tossed her. Then  
he held her eyes, shook his head slightly and  
lifted out the second.

The one sized to fit him.

She didn't get it. But she stood waiting,  
searching...because he did. And that hurt. I had  
driven my sister so far away that she had to  
trust another to see what she could not.

But she did not leave.

Then Mulder's looking at me, and shit, I  
recognize that look. Mom and Charlie still are  
not moving and I think Tara's nails have begun to  
draw blood . And now she's getting pissed at Dana  
because Dana's pissed with me.

Way to go, Commander. Merry Fucking Christmas.

Mulder's still holding the vest so I start  
talking to him, hoping...I don't know. That I could  
make this better. Fix it.

"I had them embroider FBI on the back. I figured  
they wouldn't allow you to wear them without it.  
And there's some padding to keep the vials from  
breaking in case you get hit or fall. The bottles  
are tough though. Heavy duty plastic..."

I was babbling, but I couldn't stop. My voice  
just kept going on and on, getting higher and  
faster as I itemized all the standard and non-  
standard features. I was beginning to wish that  
one of them would pull their gun and just shoot  
me and shut me up.

Suddenly Dana was flying across the room and I  
swear for a moment I honestly thought she was  
going for my throat. Then her body hit me hard  
enough that she knocked us both back onto the  
sofa. I think Tara had started to get up when  
Dana moved...maybe to stop her...I don't know. Our  
momentum combined with my grasp on her hand  
pulled her down on top of us, but Dana didn't  
seem to notice or care.

She had her arms wrapped around my chest so tight  
I was having trouble breathing and I could feel  
her body shaking as she just kept saying "thank-  
you" over and over. Tara must have let go of my  
hand because I suddenly realized I had both arms  
wrapped around my sister's shoulders and all I  
could think was that she was safe, and that she  
forgave me, and maybe I'd survive after all.

When I finally looked up, Tara was standing with  
my mother and Charlie. She must have been  
explaining, because Mom was smiling proudly at me  
while Charlie was giving me a thoughtful look I  
wasn't totally sure how to interpret. It suddenly  
struck me that with his clearance level in Naval  
Intelligence that he probably had access to  
information I'd never be in a position to see.

Maybe he had known who our sister was all along.

Mulder was rooting around in the rest of Dana's  
present and for a split second I wasn't sure if I  
was annoyed or just...annoyed. But he turned his  
head towards us as soon as Dana twisted around  
enough to see him and I realized that maybe he  
had been giving us some privacy. Then he held up  
his hand and grinned as he tossed her his  
...her...prize. I scowled.

Maybe not.

Dana captured the kit which had seemed small  
enough when I held it, but seemed to dwarf her  
hands. I was still amazed at what they had  
managed to squeeze into that thing. Between the  
drugs and the equipment, she'd be able to handle  
just about anything that didn't require major  
surgery...and even then I wasn't sure where she'd  
draw the line. Dana is nothing if not creative.

"You planning on getting injured, Mulder?"

I swear to God the man actually pouted. " Scully,  
you know I don't plan these things."

Dana muttered something under her breath which  
her partner chose to ignore and then he grinned  
at her, waiting.

We had moved far enough apart that I could see  
her face as she narrowed her eyes at the lunatic  
across the room. Finally she cracked...or maybe  
that was just part of the game.

"What is it Mulder?"

He held up a box of silver bullets," There's a  
blue moon in another two months. Maybe we should  
check it out."

A blue moon? Two full moons in a month. Two  
chances to go chasing after fairy tales. Two  
chances to run around after phantoms in the dark?

"Two chances to get eaten?"

I didn't mean it to be funny. I thought about  
scowling and then decided I was ahead of the  
game. Mom was laughing with Charlie and Tara was  
smiling at me through the faintest hint of  
tears. So I clenched my teeth and settled for  
glaring at Mulder. The idiot just barked a short  
laugh, then smiled slyly.

My mouth dropped in shock. Was that an  
invitation? Surely he didn't think ..no, he  
really didn't. Dana and he would go hunting these  
things alone. He didn't expect or want my help.  
But it felt like an invitation. I groped around  
for an explanation for what I was seeing, what I  
was feeling. Suddenly I realized that I was being  
invited into the club. Not all the way , but far  
enough inside that I wasn't exiled to the outside  
of my sister's life, looking in. I took a  
tentative step.

"There's no such thing as werewolves."

And they laughed at me, but maybe they were  
really laughing at each other, and their laughter  
didn't exclude me. Dana turned her head toward me  
to smile and for the first time I saw the truth  
of what she had become twisting in the depths of  
her eyes. Saw hunger and cold judgement born of  
anger and outrage and a merciless line she had  
drawn in her own blood. I saw the darkness that I  
had always misread as pain. Or maybe I had just  
never looked far enough beyond the pain.

I don't think I know enough to understand it all.  
But she was showing me the truth of herself,  
confident for once that I wouldn't reject it.  
Wherever Mulder was going, she wasn't stumbling  
blindly along behind him. She would be right  
there beside him.

My sister hunts the things that hunt humans.

And she was looking forward to it.

I watched as she walked back to her partner and  
he helped her stuff her presents back into the  
box. Mom was dragging Tara into the kitchen  
saying something about cookies and eggnog while  
Charlie...Charlie smiled at me in a way that made  
me think that maybe we'd be having ourselves some  
hunting conversations of our own. It made me  
wonder just what my brother had been doing since  
Missy's death.

Still, that's for another day. For now, all that  
matters is that I've got my sister back. Not the  
one I thought I'd lost, but the one that had been  
standing there all along.

I do not believe in ghosts.

I do not believe in goblins.

I do not believe in monsters.

But the next time my sister has to take down a  
werewolf, that bastard is one dead puppy.

~fin~ 


End file.
